Foreign Touch
by Prism Bunny90
Summary: Yuka enters college and discovers exciting experiences that all deal with one word. Love. Will her emotions stand in her way to rekindle a light once lost at a young age? And will Gohan will be able to handle the drama that ensues? Elfen Lied/Dragon Ball Z crossover.


Note: I wrote this fanfic for my friends, The King of Soda and LSSJ2 Gohan. The King of Soda talked to me about the premise and helped with some editing, and voila! I did the rest. :D

This fanfiction will have explicit descriptions of sexual intimacy. It is a hurt/comfort that discusses grief and mourning. If that hits the right spot for your reading pleasure, then go ahead and enjoy it!

P.S. All sex scenes will be censored on fanfiction-net, so there will be a link on my profile for the full chapter. Thank you for understanding that I do not want this fanfic deleted!

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Eight years.

Eight years ago, a freak accident tore her family apart both in a literal and figurative sense. The details were still hazy, but her uncle and two cousins were not alone as some little girl rode the same train that night. All of those children and her uncle suffered. And that train killed him. She reflected on that day, and how she spent those last final hours with the boy who showed her love. Now doubt shrouded her better judgment and exhausted the word impossible. Unattainable. She had been eleven then. Now she was nineteen, and to top it off, she just knew every day she would forget another detail of memory from the past. It was like losing him, the boy who had meant everything to her, all over again.

She laid her head on a soft pillow and whispered his name.

"Kouta."

The rhythm in her heart skipped when she opened a small box with a melancholic melody. The one personal item they found among the wreckage. The tiny knobs rolled as the comb plucked, creating each little sound. She closed her honey-brown eyes and listened while tears pricked the corners. They dared to come out, but the woman stayed strong despite the aching feeling of grief. Would it ever go away?

She pressed her features into the soft comforter and whimpered. Tonight would be the hardest, she thought, when his death was so near to her, but tomorrow she had a busy schedule with a new school. She had accomplished top marks in her grades to enter a well-established university that served her purpose to become a cellular biologist, for even as a youth she had dreamed high, to find cures for diseases like cancer and AIDS, and to make a name for herself that would be what people remembered about her after she was gone. Another step in the right direction she insisted.

She sighed and sunk further into the laid-out bed.

"I miss you..." she shut the box and tucked her hand under her chin. "Goodnight."

Silence engulfed the room, except for the light snoring.

For several hours passed and she awoke next morning to the early chirping of tree sparrows. She squinted and peered at the clock next to her. Five o'clock. She yawned and stretched, cracking joints here and there. She stayed on her back for a few minutes before tossing the blanket off of her. She wiped her eyes of the sandman's dust and crawled out of bed. She moaned when her legs carried her body to the sink, and she turned on the faucet for the bath. She avoided the mirror when she became aware of the apparent dark circles. The water warmed as she prepared her belongings. Shampoo? Check. Regular soap? Check. Bath crystals? Double check. She scrubbed under her arms, on her calves, and even her private areas. She thought for a moment about releasing the tension down there but decided against it. A couple of washes to her hair and she was ready to exit the tub.

She reached out for her towel and swept it along her body. She grabbed another one and scratched her scalp and tugged, so it dried. It was time for some natural makeup and to put on her green blouse, white-patterned skirt, and white socks. After a few moments, she was ready to eat some easy-to-make breakfast by herself. She flipped the television on and huffed that the same bimbo anchor was around, showing off too much skin. She nibbled on her rice, sipped on her miso soup, and picked at her grilled fish.

Typical food for a typical day.

She cleaned her mess and brushed her bobbed-style hair before announcing to no one that she left for school. She imagined her mother waving farewell to her. She became so much older and needed constant help but denied that her daughter would live with her. If Kouta were alive, he could free her from such loneliness. Her black shoes stepped in puddles of rain that glistened in the sunshine as puffs of clouds streaked across the baby blue, bright sky. As a passerby giggled and gossiped to another person, no one snuck behind her to say a hello or a goodbye. She was grateful for one thing; the school was a few blocks away. No need for a car in a rural town like Monbetsu to get to an educational facility like Shinigawa University. The one thing here to look out for were residents on bicycles or hurrying pedestrians with urgent news or deliveries.

She caught a glimpse of the ocean far in the distance and how the crystal clear waves crashed with an eruption on the shoreline's rocks. For a minute, she was tempted. She had not visited the sea since the passing. She made the decision and took a detour on her way to college. Beaches, on their own, tend to feel more abandoned when alone. Her brown hair swirled in the salty breeze, and she fingered at the strands. She bit her plush bottom lip and kept on her way to classes.

Morning Class — Introductory Biology.

The outside world seemed so far away from her small seat next to a few female peers that never bothered to say anything and directed their attention to the text in front of them. She kept daydreaming about the little boy and his sister playing hopscotch on country roads and their outfits on the day of the festival. Kanae did not bother with a kimono, unlike Yuka. Her mouth smiled at the rudeness her cousin had back then. Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. The teacher had approached her personal space, and she straightened up.

"Yuka-san!" the reprimand echoed throughout the classroom. "Do you know Mendel's Second Law?"

"U-Uhm..." she tapped her pencil on the table and squeezed her fist.

Her pupils dilated. She had no clue, and it was the first course of the year. Her skin reddened and she stammered out a no before she slid behind her desk further. Her doubt had increased. How could she be a scientist if she failed at simple questions like that one? She breathed as the teacher showed his displeasure with a frown.

"I see." the short man walked away, and students around her felt like shadows that eyeballed her down.

"You, Gohan-san!" the teacher had set his sights on another student. "Do you know the answer?"

A soft, somewhat timid voice spoke up, "Huh? Oh, me? Um, yes, sir!"

"Then would you please be so kind to tell us?" the teacher prompted wearily.

A figure wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with a black vest, maroon pants, and a pair of thick black-frame glasses backed his chair away and stood up in front of everyone. He found a cozy spot in the far left where the window was most visible. He coughed, maybe to clear his throat, and began his reply. Yuka blushed harder at the embarrassment as he repeated the answer as if he just read it a second ago.

"Mendel's Second Law, also known as the law of segregation, states that discrete units of inheritance are separable in the gametes."

"Very good. Now sit." the older man sifted through pages. "Let's move on."

She continued to gawk at the late teen. He said a mouthful without any hesitation. She watched as he lowered to his seat again and jotted down more notes on the papers in front of him. If she oozed confidence, she would congratulate him for the right answer. She acknowledged it was petty of her to try to win over a friend without any consideration of the privacy for the classmate. She pressed her thighs together and let her head drape forward, in turmoil. How was she supposed to become an experienced, independent woman who her family asked her to be when she could not even bypass simple interactions and introductions? Maybe she was hopeless.

As lunch ticked closer by every minute, Yuka's stomached growled. She squirmed so no one would hear it but the noise attracted a few unwanted glances. She gathered her sheets and pencils when the bell rang and hustled over to the cafeteria downstairs. A groan escaped her when the line was longer than expected. She danced a set of light bounces, leaning back and forth on her heels. She huffed in excitement when it was finally her turn. She ordered in haste and asked for a bowl of rice, nimono vegetables, yakiniku, and green tea in a bottle. She licked her lips when she grasped the hand-delivered chow. She slid down the line and paid for it. The lunch lady could have been more polite, but instead, she seized her paper yen before giving away a few coins.

"How rude." she glared.

She moved out of the way for the next consumer and paused at her predicament. There were two options that she could take, one being eating with strangers inside the building or heading somewhere more private where she could concentrate on her studies. She tapped her foot and hummed. Her full plastic tray started to weigh her down, so as fast as possible, she jogged upstairs to the roof. She pushed through the door and scoped the area out. As usual, she was by herself. She placed everything, including her books, down on the bench seated across from the exit. She skimmed through one and found her notes and sheets for the class. She bit down on her chopsticks and furrowed her eyebrows. The equations were not difficult but would take some time to comprehend. She scratched out the wrong answer and redid it again.

Just as she dropped some dots of soy sauce on the meat and cooked grains together for another bite, she heard a couple of coughs coming sideways from her, between the wall that blocked her view. She gasped and let go of the utensil. Had someone been there the entire time? She blushed when she realized she had mumbled to herself while working. She tensed at the idea that the person thought of her as mental. She scooted her items away from her, and she angled against the wall. Her head peeked at the individual, and she squeaked. It was that charcoal-haired man from earlier. The one that beat her to the punch for the correct response.

"O-Oh no." she drew in a sharp inhale.

Yuka planned in urgency. She would be extra quiet and tiptoe away from him before he caught wind of her. Each thing was put in her bag and shouldered on her. She lifted up the platter and was almost ready to go when she heard a sharp whistle pierce her ears.

"Hello?" his voice piped up, "Is someone there?"

Busted.

"Yes?" she squeaked out. She hoped not to embarrass herself by looking foolish in front of him.

"Pardon me for asking, but what are you doing up here?" the young man questioned in a warm and friendly manner.

"Oh, just, you know, admiring the weather," she said in a vague way, disarmed by his personable charm.

The young man shifted closer to her. "It's a great day out, isn't it?"

She tucked her feet in and stared at the ground.

"Can I come over there?"

The simple request frightened her more than she reasonably thought it should.

"N-No, I'll come to you!" she shook her head and marched.

She halted her movements when she witnessed the man who had his legs spread Indian style. He had both arms behind his nape. He had a slight grin, and his onyx irises brightened toward Yuka. She straightened out her clothes and entwined her hands. Something about this guy caused her to feel more peppy and nervous than usual.

She mimicked his expression. "Hi."

"I don't mean to be rude, but weren't you the one who couldn't answer the teacher's question?" he pointed out.

She gritted her teeth and clenched up, that typical tomboy fieriness coming over her.

"I don't see what concern that would be of yours," Yuka stated politely but firmly, keeping her guard up.

"Hey, come on, you don't have to be so embarrassed!" he said with a comforting smile, "Sometimes I get an answer wrong too. It's natural, you know? No one's perfect."

"I see..." she let out a barely audible grumble.

He patted a spot on the ground in front of him, and Yuka nodded and knelt, giving him plenty of free leeway. And so they struck up a conversation. He asked for light information about what she was majoring in and what she had planned to do after being a graduate. She stuttered out some of the details but stated she had a dream in the works. Her volume became normal and confident again.

"I want to cure sickness and diseases. I believe it can be done. Take diabetes, for example. Most of the treatments involve insulin, but recent work with implants is changing that. If you can implant encapsulated islet cells within the bloodstream, the patient's own cells will be able to produce the necessary insulin on their own, thereby relieving the need for lifelong treatments."

"Wow." In possible total fascination, the young adult respected her future. "That's incredible!"

And she noted that his deep voice sent tingles down her spine as she wrapped her forearms around her waist. They maintained the chat for a minute before Yuka questioned the blatant.

"What's your full name?"

"Son Gohan." he scratched his scalp and chuckled, "But you can call me Gohan."

"Gohan…" she became dumbfounded.

Why did his birth parents name their child after a side dish? After a second, she covered her mouth and laughed. Her action made him cock his head to the side in confusion. She could not stop snickering despite being inconsiderate. He appeared puzzled at her reaction.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, what are you studying here?" she said after she calmed down, "What are your interests?"

"Aha... well," he finger-combed his hair, "it may sound a bit arrogant, but I wanna unlock the secrets of the universe."

He sighed, and then grinned again.

"I'm going for my masters in physics — or more specifically, quantum physics. You know, like the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics." He inhaled and carried on further, "Infinite numbers of states, parallel universes, that kind of thing. Perhaps even invent transporter technology — you know, converting matter into energy and then back into matter again?"

Her jaw dropped and electricity shot down her spine.

"You're... quite intelligent, Gohan," she announced, gaping at him like a fish.

"Hm, you think so? Haha," he muttered, his eyelids closed, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't know why you wouldn't think so," she said, giving him a charming smile.

And suddenly her alarm went off, signaling the end to lunch period. She felt confused, her face flushed. For some reason, she wanted to keep this conversation going.

"Oh." she reached for her dainty purse and retrieved her cell phone, "I'm sorry, but it is time for me to leave."

"Oh really?" the young man asked, looking disappointed.

"Mhm."

"Let me give you something." she fetched a pen, ripped a note from her folder, and wrote down a several number and several words (Yukalily98 ).

"Here, would you mind taking this?" she asked him as she held it up.

"What is it?" Gohan wondered, accepting the piece of paper.

"It's my phone number and email, silly." she favored him with a bemused stare, "Call me when you get the chance."

"Wow, really? Cool!" he shouted, unable to contain his excitement, "I promise I'll definitely give you a ring!"

That was not the reaction she expected or wanted. She scowled without saying a goodbye and exited the rooftop. Once back in the air-conditioned stairs she frowned. Was that how boys flirt when meeting girls after the first impression? Skin flushed when she imagined affection from another human being. She placed two digits on her temple and swayed her head from side to side. No way it would ever get that serious. She needed to get her act together. She needed to use a wet towel to cool herself off. She strode to the nearest bathroom and eyed her facial features. Mascara and lipstick were in desperate need of a second coat. She had natural beauty, but her mother had taught her a little self-confidence would not hurt. She applied both in a meticulous manner. Then she watered down a paper towel and pitter-pattered on her collar bone, neck, and forehead, then tossed it in the trash bin.

A few hours passed, and she was eager to free herself from the hard lessons. More calculations and theories were the topics of her two courses. Though some of it sank in, the rest faded even after writing it down. She watched the clock and decided to leave right before the lecturer finished drilling the students about being ready for their tests.

Maybe she would stop a convenience store for a few ingredients for her last meal of the day. As she exited a large male bumped into her by accident and did not bother with a sorry. Common decency failed to exist in some men, flaunting their masculinity like a husky dumb jock, she speculated, without caring about the woman in the situation. She pursed her lips and ignored the rest of the students.

Nothing would ruin her afternoon as she traveled the city and entered a tiny shopping market. She strolled through the rows of street venues before choosing soft boneless beef, crispy celery, and shiny red peppers. She entered a tiny store, to pick up more soy sauce and vegetable oil. Just as she done purchasing, her phone vibrated and played its ringtone of Ranma ½ theme. The number was a strange one. Without hesitation, she pushed the green button, and a familiar cheerful voice came through.

"Hey, how are you doing, Yuka-san?" the voice on the other end was very familiar, "It's me, Son Gohan. Remember, from school?"

She gripped the phone. He actually called.

"H-Hi." She greeted back, cursing the awkwardness in her tone.

They exchanged pleasantries while she wandered about the sidewalk and pursued the walkway to her home. He talked and talked about his new teachers and complex researches that were way over her head. Even if she failed to understand, he enjoyed them at least. He interrupted his own train of thought and inquired about her evening plans.

"Well, I think I'll finish today with a light dinner and get a little study time in before I head to bed." the young woman drawled in a casual tone.

"Oh, is that so?" Gohan mumbled, and he sounded awkward to her when he laughed next, "You're so lucky, I haven't had a home-cooked meal since I left home. I'm afraid I'm a rather lousy chef, heh. It's all instant ramen and sandwiches for me."

Her soul went out to the young man. That gave her an idea, but would he take it?

"How 'bout you come over?"

She counted the seconds to when he would reply again.

"What do you mean?" the way he sounded did not to do much to inspire Yuka's confidence.

"Well, I'm thinking maybe we could eat dinner together? It's beef stir-fry, you know, but I'm sure I could make you something else if that isn't to your tastes," Yuka insisted with perspiration collecting on her brow.

"You don't have to do that, Yuka-san." the voice on the other end sounded humbled as if he was not used to someone going out of their way for him. "I mean, I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

"Oh no, it's no problem! I wouldn't mind it if we ate together. I could use the company. And there's going to be a lot left over anyway." Yuka implored him, wondering why this was so important to her.

"For real?" he exclaimed, "Hmm, okay, if you say so! Sounds like a plan! What's your address?"

Yuka gave it to him.

"I'll see you then!"

The phone beeped.

Yuka entered her household. It was comfortable space, with a pastel sofa that faced a wall-mounted TV screen, which she switched on. She owned a wicker table with plastic wrapping over it. On top of it, whale and dolphin plushies littered and scattered around. On the other side, a fine upholstered armchair, which faced a small black coffee table that lengthened between two various miscellaneous objects spread across the surface like paper. A cup holder, pens and pencils, and a game console. The stylized walls had warms shades of gold and pink. She had posters of many her favorite animes, TV shows, and games, such as Fate/Stay Night, Firefly, and Pokémon Colosseum. Plus, there were magical girl genres too.

"Okay, time to get ready."

The kitchen did not sparkle, but it was clean enough for anything she desired to muster up. She unloaded the groceries and set them aside as she prepared the stove top. She searched through the fridge for the maki she bought last night. The rolled sushi had smoked eel, cream cheese, and avocado, topped with shrimp. Would he even eat it? If he refused it, she could take a couple of pieces. The knife sliced thin strips of the meat, and she steamed them in the pan until it crisped. She added various ingredients in a pot and set the heat on high, and waited. She stirred the cornstarch in the rest of it and allowed it to boil. The rice-steamer completed its duty.

She had finished after an hour and checked if she had enough time to change her outfit before he arrived. She did. She skirted to the bedroom and undressed down to her socks. She removed the old ones after putting on a spaghetti-strapped aqua dress with ruffles on the chest. She smiled in the mirror and left. And right as she poured hot water in the jasmine-cha tea into two cups on the lacquered chestnut table, she heard the bell chime. She steadied her feet and whispered to herself that she should not worry, that she could do it. To serve a new acquaintance the best she had to offer and bear through it like a trooper. She answered, and Gohan straightened and waved. His height outmatched her as she met eye-to-eye with his chest. Her cheeks rosied.

"Hiya, Yuka!" the young man greeted with a broad grin.

"Please come in, Gohan." the brunette invited and stepped to the side to allow him in.

Quick to remove his shoes, Gohan made his way into the cozy little apartment.

"Nice place!" he remarked with a low whistle. "Lots of living space, but it looks homey. Very warm and inviting. I also like what you've done with the furniture."

"Thank you." Yuka uttered, as the air rushed to her head over the compliment, "Please, make yourself at home."

"Something smells amazing!" he led himself over to the prepared cuisine, "And wow, it looks delicious! I had no idea you were such a good cook, Yuka-san!"

"How could you know, we only just met!" Yuka reminded him, letting out a girlish titter.

They both settled on the embroidered zabutons and Yuka scooped a decent amount of rice into a ceramic bowl.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, handing over the dish.

"Am I ever!" he smacked his stomach.

She blinked and then chuckled. "Alright, then let's dig in!"

Both of them held their hands up in prayer.

"Itadakimasu!" they offered and then dove into their meal with relish.

Yuka observed as Gohan gnashed away and gulped every few seconds. Surprised, she never thought that he would find her cooking above adequate. He ate as if he exercised for several hours and had starved during it all. By the time she finished one he, however, politely begged for another round. She glanced at the television as another science-fiction show was playing. She often streamed these series for amusement and some educational insight. She loved how some of the technical mumbo jumbo made logical sense in some episodes. The scene had a transporter shine bright shades of pale sparkled blues, beaming them to another interstellar spaceship. She admired the handsome, strong leaders among the cast members.

"You know, these science-fiction shows bring up genetic engineering?" he sipped on the savory broth.

"Yeah, like that movie with the obsessed genetically enhanced supervillain." Yuka brought up, a family favorite movie that she had loved to watch as a child.

"Or cloning. You know there was another movie with an evil clone?" Gohan explained.

"Really?" she felt startled that she, a long time fan, had no clue, "I haven't seen that one..."

She shrugged. But the topic changed and allowed her to ponder something that had been on her mind.

"Is a clone really a person? That's something I've always wondered." absentminded, she fiddled with her utensils, "I mean, do they have the same thoughts and feelings that we do?"

"Well, it all depends on how they're created, really." Gohan seemed to enter his lecture tone, but as he went on, she found that he was easier to understand than her teachers, "If a clone is kept static in a vat, and subjected to accelerated growth, its mind will be a void once it reaches full maturation; which is when you can implant memories."

"Really?" she sat up straighter. It would be fascinating to learn about.

"Oh yes. We are chemical beings, after all. And depending on what type of memories you have, it determines who you are, what kind of person you are, how you believe, and what you feel. Stuff like that."

"Does it have to do with brain chemistry?" Yuka inquired, and felt like this could be something understandable.

"Exactly! Which is why when the clone is raised at a young age to grow as any normal organic being would it develops its own mental structure. Like any other child. So to answer your question, yes, it would depend on how they're conceived and created, whether they are grown artificially in a lab, left a blank slate, or brought up in a family unit."

They both sipped on their mild drinks. Gohan asked for a second cup full and continued to discuss genetic engineering, cloning, and miscellaneous until the rays of sunlight casted shadows in the windows while the sky painted an array of warm hues with vibrant reds and fiery orange within soft puffs. Again, the intelligence that exuded from him made her dizzy from the fizzy oxytocin bubbling in her system. She dozed off until she entered reality again.

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight!" he clasped his hands together and placed them on the table, "It was really delicious."

"It was no problem, really," she responded, her voice soft.

"Where did you learn to cook so well?" she felt shivers run down her spine.

"Well, my mother always knew her way around the kitchen, and I guess it rubbed off on me." she looked away. Her heart beating a bit faster against her ribcage.

"I just wish there was something I could do in return."

"You don't have to do that..." she said politely.

"Hey, I know! How about I help you study?" he offered.

"Oh... you mean... the two of us? Together?"

"Uh-huh!" He sounded nothing but cheerful, which made Yuka feel even more flustered.

"Ah... well, thank you for the kind offer, but I assure you I am perfectly capable of figuring out this stuff on my own," her internal defenses kicked in.

"Hey, come on, it's not that I don't think you can do it, but if you can grasp the theory faster, then you should be able to move on to the next topic rather quickly, don't you think?" He was so earnest, so sincere, so kind, just like...

She focused back on his ebony irises. "You got a point."

Making her way up, she dashed to snatch everything and by the time she came back, Gohan had repositioned and leaned against the wall with his legs unraveled underneath.

"Did you bring your textbooks?" Yuka asked him.

"You mean my schoolbooks? Actually, they're in my backpack."

Astonished, Yuka sat back as Gohan hauled his bag of books on the table. She read the titles and found that some of them were about other subjects she had not touched in her minor yet. Some of it were out of her league, as well.

Before she could protest, he used the tabletop to ease to stand up. He grabbed the cushion, and he stepped near Yuka and landed next to her and slid close, bumping into her. She let out a minuscule gasp at the contact.

"Let's do this." Gohan's words reverberated in her mind.

As he brushed his hand against hers to point out each section, her entire physical body reacted. It became heated, and her lower half stiffened. Flutters in heart tightened her chest. Each breath hitched as he asked about each page. She tried to hone in as her brain went into full auto-pilot. Mere inches away from his neck, she caught a whiff of a pleasant aroma. Was that his natural scent? It smelled of an earthy tone, plain soap, and a hint of worn paper. Her attentions lingered until she realized that maybe he did not understand that new friends should never squeeze tight like that. His audible calm breaths puffed next to her right ear until he pulled away.

Her vision fixated on her mechanical pencil as it wrote out things on its own. She tapped her phone and saw that twenty-five minutes had passed during her stimulated high.

She shivered inside as he murmured, "Looks like you're getting the hang of it."

"Mhm." she wished her reply had been more eloquent.

He helped her with a few more in-depth questions before he searched through his pocket and shuffled out his own cell phone. He checked the time and smiled. She knew he would leave the moment he was up on his feet again.

"This has been a pleasant evening, Yuka-san, but I'm afraid I have to go home now." he declared as he stretched wide and yawned.

"You do?" her own tone sounded disappointed to her own ears.

"Yeah, it's getting late," Gohan replied, "Besides, I'm meeting with some of my friends tomorrow."

"Ah... I understand." she whispered, her voice extra quiet, "Sorry for taking up so much of your time."

"Nah, don't be that way, Yuka! I had a good time tonight, didn't you? We should hang out together again sometime, don't you think?"

They nodded in unison as he patted the spot. He turned and walked towards the entrance.

"And don't worry, we'll see each again! I promise!" he waved and she returned the gesture.

"Bye..." she muttered.

She heard the thud of the door, and she sighed. She allowed a complete stranger to come in and disrupt her daily routine, but despite the fear of losing another chance to make contact, she found something special during the rollercoaster of emotions. She wondered if the man was correct; that they would meet again. She remembered Kouta again. How he would have grown a little shorter than Gohan. How kindness and sweetness seemed to be part of their personality. She stacked dishes together, and one by one shuffled them in the sink. She frowned at the idea of Gohan being a replacement. Her hands busied with scrubbing every inch of the smudges and sauce. A little elbow grease and some hot water did the trick and washed them all. The sink drained, and Yuka felt tired enough to collapse on the bed.

The light flicked on. The dress she wore fell to the ground after she removed the thick straps off of her collarbone. She released her bra, with a tiny rose ribbon in the middle, as she undid the hooks. She scratched at the freed skin that itched, and she put all of the clothing in the laundry basket. The soft bed unfolded and was ready for anyone to rest on now. The lime nighttime grown slid on with ease, and she fluffed her hair above the collar. She navigated in the darkness after she no longer had a use for the luminous overhead. When her foot hit the soft padding, in an instinctive response, she crouched and then snuggled the cushion. Now that was pure heaven.

She stared at the ceiling. Her extremities went limp from exhaustion as she felt a familiar wetness along with a nagging pulsated throbbing. Flashes of images from the raven-haired man's filled-out body that were covered by those unforgivable layers made her close her eyes tight. What was underneath them all? She felt a sensation of pleasurable chills go down to her abdomen. She let out some air and caressed it. She guided her fingers downward and rubbed the cotton panties. The girl felt another shock to the system in short waves. An index finger played with a fleshy button through the material. She moved her head to the side and her pupils adjusted to the darkness. Just as she about to take it farther, she caught a glance of a special picture frame. In the glass, there smiled a little boy with a green shirt and navy shorts. She felt an instant spiraled rush into sadness.

"I-I can't do it." her hand retracted.

Tears stung and tried to overflow. She wiped them but more supplied the next batch. Her cousin, her crush. The one she loved since the beginning ever since she understood the meaning. Someone to love someone outside of one's bond with their parents and siblings. Would he approve of Gohan? Maybe not, Maybe so. He would never hold her against her will. Though, she had promised to return the promise Kouta made between them. She lifted the music box's lid and let the harmony play. She cradled the frame and her body, feeling weak, dropped and rose in constant flow. She slumbered once again.

"Yuka... Yuka..." his ghost-like voice echoed in an ocean current.

* * *

What an interesting ride thus far, huh? If you liked the story, please review and follow it!


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